Just for Fun

I am trying to regain my sense of humor.  I think it disappeared in a puff of smoke.  No, I have not started smoking again.  But it seems like my sense of humor - albeit it a weird sense of humor - has left me.  I am more serious than I have been in a long time.  Things do not strike me as being funny anymore. 

I know I have not cried in almost 4 years, but will I be saying, in 4 years from now that I have not laughed in 4 years?  That thought is pretty scary. 

I finished writing my 3 prompts (that were due in April) and that in itself should bring a smile to my face.  It does bring a sense of accomplishment, but a smile?  Let me see, today is Day 28 of not smoking - and it is Day 28 of not laughing.  Funny eh?  (No, I am not laughing as I type this).  One of the prompts given by my writing group had a strong lean toward a murder.  And I struggled with it when I thought of actually writing something that 'might' have me kill off one of my characters.  I could not do that.  It just wasn't in me.  I joked with my writing group members that I might kill a fire, but that was about as close to killing something as I could get.  For me, the thought of killing anything, even a thought, seemed an impossibililty.  Except for killing a mosquito (and even there, I always had to turn my head) was an ordeal. 

But yesterday as I finished that last prompt (yes, I left that particular prompt for the last one), I looked at my finished product and thought to myself 'why did I have absolutely no trouble killing off one of my main characters?'.  Has stopping smoking brought out a beast in me that I did not know existed?  Would I suddenly turn into a mystery writer?  Would I walk along the same path as Stephen King and imagine all sort of killing sprees brought on by dead people?  Would my heart harden now that I no longer smoked?  Was it worth selling my soul in order to not smoke?   Would I ever be able to write something amusingly witty ever again? 

Time will tell, as they say.  But somehow last night, as I finished my short story, I had a certain sense of pleasure in having killed off a character.  Death had a certain appeal that I had never experienced before.  Ah well, such is life....and death!! 

Strange what not smoking can do to me.